Can You Queer Me Now?
by KissTheBoy7
Summary: Collins is getting annoyed with his roommates- well, no, just Roger. Roger, being Roger, either doesn't notice or doesn't care. Maureen takes matters into her own hands. PreRENT. One little Maureen/April kiss. Rated for language and implications. Oneshot.


**A/N: This was inspired by a t-shirt on CafePress. I am not kidding. If you haven't ever been on CafePress, you just… you haven't lived. They have awesome shit on there, man. AWESOME. So anyways, I hope you enjoy the break from the recent flood of angst I've been spewing at you all. Read and review, lovelies!**

Disclaimer: _Pretty sure RENT still isn't mine, but I could double check just to put your mind at ease._

**Can You Queer Me Now?**

Collins tells himself that his friend's comments don't bother him. That they're just obnoxious men who act more like boys and they're not holding back. Why should they? They're free, they're living for their art, living life like it's meant to be lived-

They could stop calling him a faggot, though.

It's not really Mark, as much. Mark is too quiet. He's too shy, too soft and timid to talk much at all. Roger is the only one who can drag him away from that camera that Collins sometimes thinks is going to get stuck to his face. But _Roger_, he's the problem. Roger is obnoxious. He knows it. He also doesn't seem at all apologetic about the fact.

It was one of those given facts of life- Mark was pale, Roger was annoying, and Collins was gay.

And sometimes it got really old, really fast.

Roger was a typical straight guy, or as straight as anyone could get. Collins had a theory on sexuality but Roger certainly wasn't the one to test it on, even though Mark was always making doe eyes at him like an eleven-year-old with a crush, trotting along behind him without a thought for his girlfriend or Roger's. Roger was a typical straight guy- he _said_ that homosexuality was fine, that he was cool, but as soon as the words leave his mouth he's onto the homonegative jokes that any self-respecting gay man would bristle at.

"If you lick anybody's ass while you're out, pick up some mouthwash on the way back, mkay?"

"Hey, Collins, how much shit do you got on your dick today?"

"Mark's drunk. I'll look away if you want to, you know-" Stage whisper. "_Violate_ him."

Seriously obnoxious. Roger had never done anything half-assed. Collins _knew_ that he didn't really mean any of those things, didn't even think twice before saying them. To him, it was like picking on Mark's height or making racial jokes at Benny. Collins was gay- he would find gay jokes relatable. In a way, he mused, this was how Roger tried to get people to like him.

By attacking any obvious physical or emotional trait or flaw. Super effective, Roger, why don't you try that one on the ladies?

In any case, it was a Saturday and Collins was actually home rather than slumped over his desk at the university grading papers. He sighed, lounging contently across the couch with a joint hanging from his mouth, enjoying the peace.

Of course, Roger was back soon enough, and he'd brought an entourage. He entered raucously, laughing wildly with his arm curled around a pretty redhead's waist- ah. So April was back. It had been a few weeks and Roger had moped the whole time, to Collins' amusement, but apparently she'd slunk right back in, probably without so much as an apology. She always got away with this sort of thing; she had Roger practically twisted right around her little finger. All she needed was a glossy pout and a short skirt and she was instantly forgiven.

Behind them, Maureen was chattering away as Mark smiled and nodded, unable to get a word in edgewise. Collins snorted. That scrawny white boy was romantically hopeless.

He swung his legs over the side just as Roger plopped down onto the couch, dragging April into his lap with her arms around her tiny waist. She giggled. Collins rolled his eyes. Roger, smugness and playful energy rolling off of him, focused his kohl-rimmed eyes on Collins with a broad smirk. "Bet you wish you had a lady this classy, eh Tom? Oh wait- I'm sorry, she's missing a-"

"Penis," he finished for him, sighing in exasperation. He took another drag and passed the joint to his friend- if he could call him that. Maureen was still chirping away, toying with Mark's hair and fiddling with his glasses, and he stood there and took it meekly, blue eyes drawn inexplicably back to Roger's greens every few moments.

Well. Not inexplicably, if you knew what you were looking for. Collins had to stifle a grin; the sexual tension between those two was _palpable._ If not for Roger's constant and overzealous ridicule of anal sex, he could easily see them getting drunk and falling right into bed.

Or onto the living room floor, which Collins had had the misfortune of seeing Roger do with April more than once since she had pranced into his life.

Ugh. Vaginas were nauseating. How anyone could possibly like them was beyond him- but to each their own, right?

"Hey, Col," Mark greeted him belatedly, giving a cute little wave. It was too bad he was so obviously infatuated with Roger, because Collins wouldn't be averse to giving his much more polite roommate a little lesson in the bedroom… But he really needed to stop thinking about that. Lord knew what Roger would say- he honestly just didn't want to deal with it.

"Hey, Cohen, I see you brought back your personal chatterbox," he snorted, receiving a cheerful middle finger from Maureen.

"Hello to you, too, Tom," she mocked, fingers pausing in the fabric of Mark's sweater. "Nice weather we're having." Her brown eyes glinted mischievously; whatever he said, Collins couldn't deny that he liked this girl. She may not have been the ideal choice for someone like _Mark_- too free-spirited and wild and overpowering- but there was an element that Collins couldn't name, one that he was sure that he shared with her.

What it came down to, he supposed, was a common interest in fucking with everybody's minds as often as possible. No one would think it, but most of the mischief accomplished in the loft was their doing, a combined effort. Benny's ties all knotted together? Roger's guitar on the ceiling? The condom tree that was still sitting in its pot on the kitchen table?

Yeah. That was them.

For all intents and purposes, Maureen was his go-to gal.

He grinned at her briefly before being nudged by Roger, impatient as ever. The rocker was pouting; he didn't like it when Collins ignored him, which was often. "Toooooooom," he was whining, pawing at his arm like a particularly insistent cat. "Tom. I'm asking you a question."

"Is it about penis again? Because I told you, I'm not going to explain how it tastes-"

Roger's eye twitched. "No. I mean. Why do men have nipples? I figured you would know-"

April rolled her eyes at almost the exact moment that Collins did and took it upon herself to reach around to Roger's chest, tweaking a nipple between her delicate fingers. He stiffened, drawing in a sharp breath, and Maureen laughed nearly hysterical at his twisted expression.

"Informative," he gasped, kissing the back of his girlfriend's neck and clutching at the offending hand. Collins accepted the joint as he handed it back, relaxing- he was off the hook.

Unfortunately, Roger had other plans. Poking his tongue out, he tried again, apparently determined to get on Collins' nerves. He would probably succeed. "So, if you're queer, does that mean-"

"Probably," he muttered, already annoyed. Maureen's eyes flashed to his and she bit her lip, fighting a smile. He wondered if he should be concerned about the cogs he could see turning in her head.

Roger scowled at the interruption, ignoring the redhead kissing up the side of his neck, trying to divert his attention. "I was going to ask-"

"Yeah, Davis, I don't really care. Your questions aren't usually very thought provoking," he sighed, giving up any semblance of patience to give him The Look. The one that said he was done screwing around, and Roger was seriously about to be strung up by the roots of that bleached hair of his to die if he dared continue.

It wasn't like him to be so moody, but he'd had a long week- and Roger still didn't seem to notice. He snorted incredulously. "I'm not trying to provoke anything, so why don't you just keep that thing away from me." He made a vague gesture to Collins' lap and before Collins could actually get up and throttle him, Maureen came to his rescue.

"Roger? Sorry to burst your bubble but… you're not really much to look at." She wrinkled her nose at him as she wedged herself between the two of them, effectively keeping their hands to theirselves. Mark looked on awkwardly, the tension making him shift from foot to foot- either that or he had to piss, but knowing Mark, the social situation was probably bugging him out by now.

Highly affronted, Roger glared up at her. He'd never liked Maureen much, probably because she stole some of Mark's attention away from himself. Collins was quietly using this to compose his 'Reasons why my roommates should fuck' case, should he ever need to present it. "Oh, fuck you," he grumbled, hugging April tighter to him. She smirked against his neck; she'd come back for sex, that much was obvious, and anything that got Roger to touch her now was a friend of hers. "April thinks I'm hot."

"You caught me," she admitted with a wry smile, nibbling just under his ear. He shoved at her shoulder lightly, eyes still boring into the other woman beside him challengingly.

"I don't," Maureen sniffed, cocking her head. "I think April is a lot hotter than you, Roger."

Mark froze for half of a second, as if trying to process this- overthinking as usual. Or was he? Because Maureen had already pried Roger's guitar-calloused fingers off of the redhead's waist and pulled her into her own lap, planting a kiss directly on her mouth.

Roger made a strangled noise that Collins wished he had recorded.

"What-?!" he choked, eyes nearly popping right out of his skull. He watched avidly as April, who on occasion could be just as mischievous as he was, caught onto the game and grinned, fingers tangling into Maureen's chocolate curls.

Mark looked ready to pass out, if only because all of the blood in his body seemed to be concentrated in his cheeks. Collins had an irrational urge to dive forward and catch him before he could crack his head on the floor. God knows the last thing they needed was blood all over the damn place- it was dirty and cluttered enough as it was. Roger, on the other hand, looked seconds from shoving his hand down his pants as the two women continued their little showcase, tongues slowly dancing, making small, lusty mewls.

"I- What- What?" Mark mumbled, glasses slipping down his nose as he stared. Roger nodded along with his non-sentence, lips parted in wonder.

When Maureen pulled away, it was to give Roger a triumphant smile. He made a garbled noise, part arousal and part weak protest. She allowed April to clamber out of her lap and back into his, the other girl breathing just slightly harder, looking as though she'd thoroughly enjoyed the kiss.

"Just because he's gay doesn't mean that he wants to hop in bed with you," she said matter-of-factly as she stood, brushing invisible dirt off of her and smacking her lips. Collins took a moment to appreciate just how much he owed Maureen for this as she continued preaching to the shell-shocked rockstar. "And just because I'm _straight-"_ She made air quotes, apparently amused by this. "Doesn't mean I can't swap spit with your sexy girlfriend."

April laughed then, nodding in agreement. "She's a better kisser than you, Rog, you're going to have to up your game."

Mark blinked furiously, voice cracking as he abruptly excused himself, practically sprinting down the hall and into his bedroom. "I- Um- Yeah!" Maureen trailed after him with a glint in her eye, her intentions obvious in the way she swayed her hips. Apparently, this conversation was over.

"What do you mean she's a better kisser?" Roger was asking with yet another pout, eyebrows drawn together in aggravation. This was not good for his infamous ego. Collins resisted smirking. It was about time he got taken down a peg.

"I don't know, maybe she's just got more talent than you do," April replied airily, toying with him, her fingers dancing up his chest. She pulled away and he reached after her, but she wagged a finger. "Ah, ah- I'll be right back. If you're not naked by then, you're waiting until tonight."

As she flounced away his eyes followed her- or rather her ass- in total confusion, looking more helpless than Collins had ever seen him.

"What was that about?" he finally turned and asked, almost a whimper. It would be difficult not to notice the erection straining at his zipper but Collins did his very best.

Rolling his eyes, he patted his shoulder almost sympathetically. "Your girlfriend likes to get you going." He paused, then added with a grin, "And maybe you should think twice about the gay jokes next time. I somehow doubt that Maureen will be half as nice without April around to stick her tongue down her throat."

It took a moment for that to sink in, but Roger swallowed thickly and nodded, looking distractedly down the hall. The bathroom light glowed from beneath the shut door. Collins took a slow drag of his joint and then nudged him.

"Oh! Yeah. I'm gonna…" Flustered, Roger adjusted his jeans and stood, looking antsy. Collins chuckled.

"Go get her."

Nodding rapidly, Roger was already off, stripping his shirt off along the way. Collins laid back across the couch, closing his eyes and allowing him a moment to bask in this moment. Roger had finally shut up and he was going to get some quiet time.

He owed Maureen a lot of booze for this one.


End file.
